The Storm

Hold me close, the wind is cold. The rain won’t wash us away. Not yet. We still have time. Tell me the clock stopped. Tell me eternity won’t knock for another forever. That the fire will flicker and I’ll see the light echo in your eyes until the flame in mine are blown out. The storm beats at our windows. Maybe it runs from itself and chases warmth, like us. Don’t you wish we could share? If only it would give more than it took. Maybe the storm will clear, satisfied from the tears it shed And those it took from us. Maybe we’ll miss it one day and how it brought us together. But only time will tell and we’ll have another question by the time we get there.